With Vengeance (26 page)

Chapter Twenty-two

Klement frowned as more fans gathered
backstage. He’d lost sight of Kat. She and Kinley had been talking
earlier, radiating triumph after their encounter with that vapid
blond reporter from Rocktalk. After her tacky post about Lefty’s
death, Bleeding Vengeance would have nothing to do with that site
anymore. He’d almost intervened when she first approached Kat and
Kinley, but Kat handled her on her own.

From the way the reporter slunk off, he was
dying to know what Kat had said.

So, where was she? He finally spotted Kinley
with Quinn signing autographs, but Kat was still nowhere in
sight.

He walked over to them. “Have you seen Kat?”
he asked.

Quinn shook his head while Kinley answered,
“She went to the bathroom to freshen up before you go on.” Her
brows drew together. “But that was a while ago. I hope she’s okay.
I know she’s really nervous. Sometimes when her anxiety is really
high she”—Kinley leaned in close and whispered—“throws up.”

“I think I remember her telling me.” Klement
longed to go after Kat and comfort her, but he didn’t want to
embarrass her.

Kinley’s eyes widened. “Really? She’s never
told anyone but me. She must trust you a lot.” She gave him a stern
look. “Don’t fuck it up.”

He bit back a grin at her determination.
“I’ll do my best not to.”

When he headed back to Rod, he noticed a
group of fans gathered around the drummer. They lit up with hopeful
smiles when he approached.

“Where’s Cliff?” a dreadlocked man asked
after Klement signed his shirt.

Klement tamped down a pang of disappointment.
It was perfectly natural for them to prefer the front man. When he
looked around the room, he couldn’t see Cliff either.

Rod looked up from the woman’s breasts he was
signing. “I haven’t seen him since he walked away from that tart
reporter.”

“Where could he have gone?” Klement
frowned.

“I haven’t seen Kat for a bit either.” Rod
cocked his head to the side. “You don’t think he’s still trying to
get in her knickers, do you?”

“No.” To his surprise, Klement was certain he
wasn’t—and that Kat wouldn’t be interested in any man but him
anyway. “Kinley said she’s in the bathroom and might be fighting
off pre-show jitters.

“Maybe Cliff’s hiding from that guy he met at
the bar who turned out to be a wanker,” Rod offered. “I think his
name was Rick. Cliff gave him a backstage pass before he found out
the guy was loony.”

Rick?
Something about that name gave
him pause. Then it hit him. Rick was short for Richard.

Dick.

“Oh, Christ.” Klement turned back to Rod.
“Did you see the guy here?”

The drummer paused. “No, but then I was a
little preoccupied here.” He nodded toward the breasts he had just
finished signing.

“Fuck.” Klement’s gut churned. “I’d bet money
that was Kat’s ex.”

He berated himself. Kat had been right when
Cliff told them what kind of a skeevy pervert his new friend turned
out to be.
He sounds just like my ex,
she’d said. And only a
few nights before that, Klement had seen the son of a bitch when he
and Kat had went out to The Hellion. If only Kat had spotted him
and pointed him out. Sure, Klement might have ended up in jail for
assault, but at least Kat and Cliff would be safe now.

Were they safe?

Rod’s lips twisted in confusion. “What? But
that guy probably delivered a dead cat to Cliff and trolled him
online. Why would he buddy up to him?”

“To get a backstage pass,” Klement guessed
through clenched teeth. No wonder the Denver and Spokane police
still hadn’t found Richard. The bastard had already been on the
road to Wisconsin.

Rod’s jaw dropped. “Bloody hell.”

“You sure you haven’t seen him here?”
Klement’s heart pounded in terror.

“No, but if he’s stalking Kat, he would stay
out of sight, right? What do you think he has planned? Do you think
he got to them yet?”

Klement didn’t know, but every one of his
instincts screamed to find Kat and protect her from that psycho. “I
hope not, but I’m going see if I can find them. You stay here and
send someone to find me if they come back.”

“Okay. I hope you find them soon,” Rod said
worriedly. “We’re supposed to be on for the sound check in a half
hour.”

Klement strode off. The show was the last
thing on his mind. Kat had better be safe. He couldn’t accept any
other alternative.

***

Kat stared into the barrel of the gun. For an
eternity her existence was narrowed to that abyss-like black hole.
Klement,
her heart cried. She wouldn’t even have the chance
to tell him goodbye.

“I got you now, cunt,” the familiar, dreaded
voice said. “And your pussy of a boyfriend, too.”

Her focus broadened to the face of the man
holding the gun. And to the man behind him, who was duct-taped to a
support beam. Cliff.

Kat’s gaze flicked back to her captor,
confusion momentarily halting her fear. “Richard? What the
fuck
?”

“You fucked him when he played in Spokane!”
Richard shrieked. “You cheated on me, you lying bitch.”

Cliff’s eyes widened with even more
confusion. “Wwfff?” he mumbled through the duct tape over his
mouth. He shook his head vigorously and strained against his
bonds.

Richard pointed the gun at him. “Shut
up!”

Kat brought Richard’s attention back to her.
“No, I didn’t. That was a year ago. And I left that concert as soon
as it was over because you kept texting me.” Self disgust washed
over her for letting him manipulate her and berate her for so long.
“I didn’t even have a backstage pass. The tour manager gave it to
Kinley.”

“Bullshit!” Richard shouted. “Why the hell
else would he hire you if you weren’t screwing him?”

Even with a gun pointed at her, she couldn’t
help rolling her eyes. “Maybe because they like my guitar-playing?
And Cliff didn’t hire me. Klement did.”

“The fag bassist?” Richard said
skeptically.

A startled laugh escaped her throat. That
whole Klement-is-gay thing? She had a wild urge to tell Richard
exactly how and why he was wrong. But that would be a bad idea
under the circumstances.

“You think this is funny?” he snarled, aiming
the gun at her head.

“No. It’s not funny at all. Put the gun down,
Richard.” She fought the quaver in her voice. “I didn’t cheat on
you. And it’s a moot point because we broke up.
Six months
ago
. You stalked me, fucked up my car and harassed a guy who
had nothing to do with this. Don’t you think you’ve gotten
sufficient revenge?”

As she listed off all the insane things he’d
done, fury blazed through her. She wished she was like the
sword-wielding video game character she’d been named after. Wait,
not a sword. The game Katana had cool fans with blades in them.
But,
what?
She forced her attention back to the present. Who
knew she’d think of such random shit when facing death?

“No!” Richard waved his gun around, the
whites of his eyes rolling like a lunatic’s. “You haven’t paid
enough for leaving me, for making me chase you across the fucking
country…” Spit flew out of his mouth as his rant gained
acceleration. His insults and accusations blurred in Kat’s ears
into nonsensical noise as they had before. Only, this time she
wasn’t frozen in panic like an animal in a cage. No, he no longer
had that power over her. Now she was infuriated. If she could just
get the gun away from him…

Slowly, she edged closer, fists clenched and
ready. Her heart thudded in her ears as she moved carefully like
playing Red Light, Green Light when she was little.

Just as her arm swept up to knock the gun
from his grasp, he jumped back and pointed it at her again. “Nice
try, cunt.” He turned the safety off with a dull but ominous click.
“Now you and your fuck-buddy are going to pay.”

Kat closed her eyes, heart clenching in agony
that it was all going to be over. “Klement,” she whispered.

A loud bang reverberated through the small
room. Kat flinched, expecting a jolt of pain, but there was
nothing. Her eyes snapped open in time to see Klement charge into
the room, face contorted in rage. The sound she’d heard was him
bursting through the door.

A beastly roar poured from Klement’s throat
as he tackled Richard to the ground. The gun went off, a deafening
boom. A second loud
crack
rent the air, and something sliced
across her upper arm like a trail of lava.

Kat stumbled back against Cliff’s bound legs
and watched in mute awe as Klement pounded Richard with his fists.
His brutal blows were seemingly in time with the ringing in her
ears, and the gentle, brilliant man who’d held her and laughed with
her was gone. Now he was a juggernaut of violent vengeance. Blood
burst from Richard’s lips. Her ex’s nose broke with a sickening
crunch. A bloody tooth flew from his mouth.

Roderick and another man burst suddenly into
the room. They grabbed Klement’s arms, trying to pull him off of
Richard, but neither could subdue their thrashing giant of a
friend. Two bulky security guards came in next, and they finally
succeeded in wresting him from his foe.

The second man stepped over to face Kat’s
bloody, beaten ex. A shaft of light from the hall illuminated his
face, and Kat’s jaw dropped. It was Dante Deity, one of the
forefathers of metal. Was she dreaming? The icy burning on her arm
told her otherwise.

Dante crouched down, peering at the floor. He
was looking for the gun. When he spotted the weapon, he reached for
it then shook his head and nudged it away with his platform boots.
He crossed his arms over his chest and stood on guard in front of
it.

Roderick raced over to Cliff and began
tearing away the duct tape. Cursing loudly, he rummaged in his
pockets and pulled out a Swiss Army knife.

Something warm and wet tickled Kat’s elbow.
Tearing her gaze from the action, she looked down at her arm and
gasped. Blood trickled in red rivulets from an angry, oval shaped
wound on her bicep.

“Kat!” Klement’s voice pulled her back to
attention. He jerked away from the security staff and flew to her
in a rush of speed that defied physics. In the next heartbeat, she
was cradled in his arms.

“He
shot
you!” His voice was wrought
with pain. “That fucking piece of shit. Are you okay?”

“It’s only a flesh wound,” she said, in her
best Monty Python impression.

Klement released her for a moment and tore
his shirt off. He wadded it up and pressed it tightly to her arm
before pulling her back into his embrace. “I’m sorry I didn’t get
here in time. I promised you’d be safe,” he rambled. “God, he
almost killed you. Please be okay. I love you.”

A drop of what felt like warm rain pattered
on her forehead. She looked up to see his eyes swimming with
tears.

“I love you,” he said again, looking at her
like she was a priceless treasure.

“I love you, too,” she said through the lump
in her throat. “I thought I’d never get to kiss you again.”

He lowered his mouth to hers, and she tasted
the salt of his tears. But even sweeter, she tasted him.

A clamor of voices echoed around them, loud
and insistent. Reluctantly, she broke away from Klement’s kiss.
Somewhere in the chaos, police and medics had arrived. Richard was
on his knees with his hands cuffed behind his back.

“You’re under arrest for malicious mischief,
harassment, and attempted murder,” one officer told him before
delivering the Miranda rights.

“How did you find me? Kat asked.

“You dropped your medicine outside the door.”
He reached in his pocket and handed her the bottle. “Then I heard
him yelling at you.”

A silver-haired female medic gently pulled
Kat from Klement’s embrace and drew away the wadded t-shirt to
examine her wound. Cliff and Rod, and even Deity, talked with the
police. One officer approached her and Klement.

“We’re going to have to ask you both some
questions to complete our report.”

“Can it wait?” Kat asked. “We have to play
the show.”

Klement stared at her with incomprehension.
“But you’ve been shot!”

“I was only grazed. I can’t even feel
it.”

“That’s because you’re in shock,” the medic
said.

Kat lifted her chin. Her level gaze met
Klement, Roderick, and Cliff’s. “We are doing the show.”

Chapter Twenty-three

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Klement
asked for the tenth time. “Your arm has got to be killing you.”

“I am not going to puss out.”

Actually, her arm just felt weird. Numbness
alternating with burning cold pulsed beneath the bandage. Kat
flexed her fingers, grateful that they all moved the way she
wanted. She’d promised to meet with the medics on the side stage
after the set and then talk with the police after the concert.
Suddenly, she realized she still hadn’t taken her Xanax. Now that
the medics were probably going to give her something for her wound,
she couldn’t. Kat took a deep breath and focused on the soothing
blue of Klement’s eyes. Oh well. She’d just have to do this without
a pill.

Klem ran a hand through his hair, face etched
with worry. “Okay, but if it gets too bad, let me know between
songs and we’ll cut the set short.”

Cliff surveyed her with awed eyes. “Damn,
you’re tough.” His lips and cheeks were red and raw from the duct
tape.

“The audience is waiting,” she said flatly.
“Listen.”

From the stage they could hear the crowd
chanting their name, clapping with each syllable. “Bleeding
Vengeance. Bleeding Vengeance!”

Klement took her hand. “Well, let’s give them
what they want.”

The crowd roared as they took the stage. Kat
felt the reverberations beneath her feet. For a moment her heart
stopped at the sight of what looked like millions of faces, though
it was only thousands.
Only,
she scoffed inwardly.